Northern Kingdom
by rNgDragon
Summary: In the north, a village stood long and proud, growing into a wealthy kingdom, despite all the odds, for this particular one, had an angel watching over them. The Dark Angel, they called her. Angel for the wishes she granted and Dark for the price of the wishes were always too high. She only asked for life of a person, the object of everyone's desires.


In the north, a village stood long and proud, growing into a wealthy kingdom, despite all the odds. It was one of the four built into the countryside, this one in particular being the most northern, then dubbed the Northern Village. It's three sister villages, toward the south, west, and east, hadn't expected them to the most long-lived, yet here they stood, alone at the top, it's boarders ever expanding. The village had started small, eventually prospering into a grand kingdom under their guardian's watchful gaze.

Unlike all the others that fell during the frost seasons, to the monsters and the plague, this particular one had an angel watching over them.

The Dark Angel, they called her. Angel for the wishes she granted when they were in need, and Dark for the price of the wishes were always too high. Wealth and riches never pleased her. She only asked for the life of a person, the object of everyone's desires. Some say that the Angel came from Heaven, brought by the gods to watch over them. No one really knew where she came from, or when her shrine was built, but it had seemed like she was always there, watching and waiting.

Always waiting.

* * *

The first she claimed was a hunter by the name of Fareeha Amari. She was a young and free spirit but a warrior at heart.

Thus was during one of the worst and longest frost seasons, when the weather was cold and the crops and livestock had died. The sun wasn't visible since the end of fall, and reports from the other villages told of stories of horror, children dying of frostbite and wives dying of starvation. Without food, villages were forced to learn to hunt so they would not meet the same fate.

Fareeha was one such person, never taking thrill in the hunt, despite excelling in the art of hunting. She would always thank the animals, after striking one down, for its meat, fur, and bones, which provided food, clothes, and weapons for the others. No matter how much she worked, even she could not prevent the inevitable. The frost season continued on without mercy, wearing down the hunters and dwindling the prey's numbers as well. Hunters came back empty-handed more often than not, and the people grew weaker with each passing day. Most thought this to be the end, without food, they surely would not survive. No one knew what to do until one of the elders brought up an old legend that mothers told their children to lull them to sleep. A legend so old, it was considered a fairy tale. It told of beings, eternal guardians, who would watch over the villages. They would grant wishes to those worthy, but not without debts to be paid. It was said that each of the villages had their own guardian, and the Northern Village had an angel watching over them. She was said to have eyes so blue, that the sky grew jealous, and hair so bright and golden, that the sun hid behind the clouds. Most of all, she was said to be the most beautiful maiden who had ever lived, and all who lay eyes on her would not be able to resist her beauty.

The people of the Northern Kingdom, a village at the time, desperate and worried for their own lives and their children, set out to the forest, in hopes of finding the Angel's shrine. People wandered for hours, in search of the shrine, but with no avail. It was not until days after, when a hunter stumbled across a small building hidden in the undergrowth, whilst searching for prey. Transfixed by the light and warmth, he abandoned the chase and entered the small, run-down shack. A golden eerie glow came from within, bathing the hunter in its light. Warmth radiated from the room, despite any source of heat nearby. The hunter knew that what he had found was much more valuable than food, and went back to the village with the news. The able-bodied were gathered, and set out to the shrine. They arrived at the shrine, and entered the shack. The warmth within, relaxed them, and unknowing what they had to do, they keeled before it and plead for mercy.

The Dark Angel was just as the stories described her. High, regal cheekbones framed her face, and long golden locks flowed down her shoulders, glimmering in the darkness. Her sky blue eyes were captivating, pinning them to place with her piercing gaze. She had wings, with feathers as white as crisp snow, and spanned over two arm lengths. She graced them with her presence, and looked upon their cold, starved faces. The Angel spoke, saying that she could end the frost season only if they sacrificed their most beautiful maiden with a pure heart. The villagers backed away, in awe of the angel in front of them. The angel was real. They came back to the village with heavy hearts and told the rest of the village of the news when they gathered in the town square.

Fareeha volunteered first, without thinking, while the village 'beauties', with their blond hair and blue eyes, hid behind their scarfs and hoods. Her mother, who also was once a warrior and now a respected village leader, quickly forbade her from going, saying that if she did, who would feed the village? She boldly replied that if the frost season ended, hunting would be easier. Still, the mother persisted and she decided to wait it out and respect her mother's wishes.

* * *

Time passed and Fareeha watched her mother's health deteriorating. The rest of the village had become to starve as well, children often crying in hunger at night. There had been nothing to be caught this day, like the last. whatever meager savings or rations have been used up by now. Their village, like the south, east and the west, was doomed to fall unless...

She couldn't bear it.

It was like a curse. Fareeha was fine while most of the village was infected by some sort of flu and starving. Her muscles were still lean and none of her ribs showed despite not having eaten anything for five days. It was like she was forced to watch the others suffer, without being able to help. She would do anything to be in their places.

Some of the villagers questioned her, asking if she was secretly eating food that she hunted for the village. Fareeha quickly denied it. She would never do such thing.

Nights later, the doctor checked up on her mother and told her that she didn't have long. She had seen the sweat collected on her brow despite the cold, and her face pale from lack of eating. she knew her mother had turned down any food offered to her, saying that it was better to feed the young. It wasn't long before the rest of the village followed suit, she knew.

Fareeha could not just let her mother die. She whispered a prayer as she packed her bag and donned her armour. She gave her mother one last kiss on the cheek and left, leaving a note on the table.

She left into the forest; to the Angel's shrine.

* * *

Fareeha's mother woke up the next morning. Her fever was gone and she sat up, confused and profound. She knew she was at death's door the other night, but seemed to be fine now. The pangs of her stomach crying with hunger were gone as well, sated by some external force. What miracle could have saved her from certain death?

Then she noticed the note.

 _"Fareeha."_ A single word left her lips. Her daughter, her foolish, brave daughter. Words could never hold her back from what she set out to do, and she had done it, defying the very words that were spoken from her mother's lips. The world seemed to revolve around her, spinning and spinning so she had to grab onto the nightstand for balance. She picked it up with shaky hands, and read it over and over to herself, not wanting to believe what her daughter has done.

* * *

The villagers were gathered in the town square and were told the news. Fareeha Amari had left to the Angel's shrine. If all goes well, the note said, they would no longer need to fear the frost season. They looked nervously around after the note was read aloud. The weather was still cold and the sky was still cloudy. Nothing had seemed to change.

Had the angel not have taken a liking to the brave hunter? If so, her sacrifice would be in vain.

They hoped, though out the day, that a sign would come, signalling the end of the frost season, yet nothing came. The remaining plants shriveled up, the animals running to their burrows. The people's faith in their supposed salvation ran out, and they thought the Angel to be nothing than their imaginations and a joke.

A memorial was set up for Fareeha and her mother grieved along with the rest of the village. She will be missed as a friend and a hunter.

They fell asleep that night with heavy hearts, hoping to wake earlier to catch the remaining animals as they poked from their dens.

* * *

That night, Fareeha's mother had a dream- or a vision. Her daughter had come to her, her face deathly pale and armour made of ice. Her once beautiful brown eyes were blue, frosted over and blank, conveying no emotion. She had held her mother's hands and smiled, repeating that everything was fine, and that things were going to be okay. Her hands felt like they were made of ice.

She woke up, sweat covering her entire body and quickly threw off the thick winter covers. She ran to the window, pulling back the curtains. The sun was so bright that she had to cover her eyes. The grass had grown back in clumps and the birds flew overhead. The tree leaves were no longer brown and wilted, but rather blooming with flowers instead. The forests were teeming with life.

Her mother smiled sadly, before bowing her head in a prayer, hoping that her daughter was safe, wherever she was now.

The frost season was over, and the village continued to thrive.

Over the next days, the villagers have noticed that the snow was gone, and the clouds have receded everywhere, but one place. At the edge of the village, past a river, to the north, a icy forest had appeared. No one knew for what reason.

Over the next years, rumours, from brave men who dared explore it, spread of a beautiful woman dressed in ice with black hair and icy eyes. She was said to sing so beautifully that anyone heard it, they would be immediately attached the her voice. Her description matched the one her mother have given, years ago, from her dream. The forest was then named the Frost Forest because of the trees that was made of ice and the infinitely cold atmosphere there, no matter the time of the year.

Decades passed, and the woman was given a name. The Frost Jay, she was called, for the ice armor she always wore, and how she was seen flitting from tree to tree inside the Frost Forest. She was always seen when the villagers had gone to the Angel's shrine and was always a cold presence at the Angel's side, opposite to her warm demeanor.

Centuries after, people still told the tale of the brave woman, Fareeha Amari, who sacrificed herself to the angel so they could live in warmth and comfort. The tale was passed down the generations, from parents to children to grandchildren. The village grew into a strong trading post and the people there lived and thrived without fear, for the Dark Angel watched over them.

Until the monsters came.


End file.
